


it can't be a fairytale

by survivalinstinctvalkyria



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: I just wanted an excuse to name a fic after a million live song, M/M, Wrote this on no sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivalinstinctvalkyria/pseuds/survivalinstinctvalkyria
Summary: Even if this body reaches its end,There's something I want to wish for...





	it can't be a fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> I only wrote this so that I could name it after It Can't Be A Fairytale/Fairytale Ja Irarenai, but hopefully it's good?
> 
> I think this isn't the best, but I tried

As he ascends the hospital staircase with practiced ease—but no less panic than every other time he's add to ascend this accursed showcase of carpentry—one thought rings through Keito's head: _What the hell did that idiot do this time?_

He knows better than to run down the hall in a hospital, but if any of the hospital workers have any complaints (they don't, his face is familiar to them, as is what he has to deal with), those complaints are hushed by the panic on his face. The door is swung open haphazardly, and Keito braces himself for Eichi’s teasing, but it doesn't come.

The room is void of anything human or natural, only bare, pristine white walls and the ring of electronic _beeps_ to fill the space. Hope hasn't abandoned Keito yet, though, he knows a single glance isn't telling enough when it comes to Eichi. So, he walks in, until he's submerged in the stilling presence of technology and medicinal scents, and can almost understand why Eichi would want to run away; the sheer inhumanity of the sense of it is suffocating. The first thing he notices is a note, written on some sort of bright red paper. It sticks out instantly, against the pure white backdrop of the room, it possesses a stifling presence. Keito picks it up and reads it, irritation already bubbling in his stomach.

_Keito, I'm at hiding spot #5, so come quick, alright? I'll be waiting._

Of course, Eichi can't ever say anything outright. It's like he's addicted to the idea of falling down rabbit holes, deeper and deeper, until you're not even sure if you're in Wonderland, anymore. He leads Keito on, gives him a bit to ponder, before walking further ahead. It's irritating to no end.

Hiding spot number five refers to an abandoned room on the floor above. It was originally meant to be a second gift shop, but it was never completed, and is now left untouched aside from being used as Eichi's hiding spot.

As he rushes back to the stairwell, Keito wonders if any other children hide there themselves. Well, if they did, then he'd certainly have heard of it by now, so he supposes the answer is no.

Conveniently, ‘hiding spot number five’ lies right next to the stairwell, so Keito doesn't need to waste anymore time waiting for Eichi to stop dancing around him.

“Honestly, Eichi, you're absolutely incorrigible. The doctors had to call me here in order to find you—what, do you think this is some kind of joke?” He ridicules Eichi the moment he steps in the room. From his seat on a previously discarded bench, Eichi looks up with a smile.

“I wanted to see you,” he says simply. 

“And that's supposed to excuse it? Eichi, are you mentally ill now, as well? There is no reason that this was necessary. You have my number for a reason!” Keito scolds in reply. He figures, as an afterthought, that maybe he should be worried for Eichi's mental health, he has yet to go off on a tirade, after all. Eichi just shakes his head.

“Says the one who never picks up my calls and has blocked my number on numerous occasions.” Keito almost bites back with _it was well deserved_ , but swallows it. “Well, anyway, I called you hear for a reason. I have a request for you.”

“Do you now? It had better not be anything to do with involving me in your schemes to escape the hospital,” Keito warns.

“You'd still oblige, wouldn't you?” Eichi asks with a fond smile, and some reservoir of discipline within Keito is destroyed by the mere nature of his playful tone, as he curses at his weak composure. “It doesn't matter, though, that's not what I had in mind. It's a rather simple thing, actually. Before I tell you, though, come, sit with me, Keito,” the blonde tells him, patting the surface of the open stool next to him. Not wanting to prolong this useless charade, Keito takes the seat without arguing.

“Well? Just spit it out already. Not everybody has time for these games of yours, you know.”

“Ow, you wound me Keito.” Keito knows his words are just in jest, but he still feels a bit guilty when he hears them. He knows how Eichi feels about being cooped up in a hospital bed, useless to society and with nothing to do, and he knows that he _should_ know better than to rub that misfortune in Eichi's face. However he feels, he stays silent. “But this isn't a game. As I said, it's rather simple. I want you to draw me, Keito.”

“What?” Despite Keito's reaction, Eichi provides no elaboration. “You had me come all the way here, just for that sort of request. Are you serious?”

“I am. But before you say anything, Keito, there's catch: you must draw me how you truly see me. I want a look into the deepest depths of your heart.”

A moment passes in silence, and Keito's discomfort breeds in it like bacteria in a bath.

“I can't.”

This is clearly not the reaction Eichi anticipated, because his eyes widen ever so slightly, and his mouth forms a tiny _o_ . “Am I really _that_ wicked in your view?”

Now is Keito's turn to surprised himself, the painful thought of _Does he really think I have him that much?_ lodging into him like thorns. He picks his words steadily, careful not to portray his image of _I'm not really as problematic as you, this is all your fault._ Subconsciously, he reaches to grasp Eichi's hand.

“No, quite the opposite. You're too angelic, no image of man could possibly portray that.” As he finishes, he feels Eichi's hand tremble within his.

“I- Keito-” Eichi's hesitance startles Keito more than he'd care to admit, having stunned Eichi of all people into stammering, it feels like a foreign, unwelcome intruder. “Why do see me as some sort of fairytale?”

“...Pardon?”

“Like, Keito,” Eichi loses his words again, and sighs before continuing, “I stole your dream—your life—and yet you still insist that as long as it's for my dream, then it's alright. As if I'm some sort of manga protagonist with righteous dreams, like we're in a fairytale, and I'm bound to save the world. But it can't-” the ghost of a sob steals his words, “It can't be a fairytale, don't you see? Because I'm the blood-stained emperor, because death is waiting right around the corner, and I don't have the time for any of the grandiose dreams you imagine. Why can't you see… even if it means I have to die in the process, I still want to restore that dream, to give your life back to you. It's so plain to see, and I'm so incorrigible and bothering to you anyway, so then why-” The sob is no longer a phantom, it's choking and clawing at his words, and this time, he isn't able to recover.

“That's fine, Eichi.”

“What? I keep saying-”

“I don't care if it's not a fairytale,” Keito interrupts. “I don't care about that dream I might have lost. Because I still have a dream that I live for, and the involves staying by your side for the rest of my days. If you went and died for the sake of a dream that's covered in dust, I'd never forgive myself, or you, for that matter. That's why, even if these days look like some sort of dystopia to anyone else, it doesn't matter to me. Being by your side is enough of a fairytale for me.”

“Keito, you…” Tears still glisten in Eichi's eyes, but slowly, a genuine smile carves itself onto his features. “Still make awful excuses, huh?”

“What, I'm trying to be thoughtful, could you not-”

“That's not what I meant.” Now his smile is cat-like, and he tilts his head at Keito. “If this were a fairytale, you would've told me that you loved me, but since it's not, you get a free pass. How unfair.”

That was not what Keito was expecting.

But it's not something he can so easily disregard. Should he have told Eichi he loves him? Once he reaches the conclusion that _I wouldn't have a had a problem with telling him that_ , his answer is set.

Rather than using his words, knowing that Eichi will deconstruct them and ridicule them the moment they leave his lips, Keito instead leans forward to close the distance between then.

It's chaste, Eichi doesn't even get the chance to close his eyes or reciprocate. But a phantom kiss still lies in Keito's breath against his lips when Keito pulls away, so the dark-haired boy figures he won't get too mad.

“It's not a fairytale, but how was that?”

“It… It was even better, Keito. If this is what your 'not-a-fairytale’ is, then I don't even think there's merit in dreaming about a fairytale in the first place.” His voice spills into Keito's soul like honey, hot breaths against his lips, and Keito decides that—between his sparkling blue eyes and his warm, beyond genuine voice—there's no fairytale that stands against this.

“You're right. I love you, Eichi, let's experience this together, alright?”

“Of course, Keito, I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to tier in Endori and struggling.


End file.
